Two Sides of the Same Coin
by Animagus Anonymous
Summary: A different way the duel in the bathroom from HBP could have played out, and how Harry and Draco aren't so different after all, even if they don't realize it! Please leave a review! Rated M for swearing, nothing else.


**Written for the Houses Competition forum's Round 2 for Slytherin House as a themed story. Text in bold is cited directly from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.** **Warning for swearing.**

 **Prompt: faith**

 **Word count: 2,013**

 **Enjoy!**

Draco shuffled into the Great Hall, late as always. He was spending every waking moment on his… task; his life was worth more than a few meals. He looked up and saw Potter talking to– Katie Bell?! But… she was in St. Mungo's because of his necklace! It didn't seem like that anymore. His plan had failed the moment the foolish girl had let the necklace graze her skin, but if she'd died, he'd have known it was her fault for not delivering the jewelry as planned, but there she stood, not a scratch on her. And something about the sight of her, the fact that she was still alive, just made something crack. All thoughts of food fled Draco's mind as he hurried out of the Hall. You've failed, you're a failure, you've failed and you're going to die…

He held it together for three days. Three days of seeing the girl whole and laughing, unaffected entirely by the experience. Three days of Draco's stomach filling with lead as he glanced at the Gryffindor table. She was even going to play Quidditch. For three days, Draco successfully kept the overwhelming anxiety and panic from consuming him and breaking him completely. Three days of scrabbling amidst the rubble for pieces of shattered hope and finding nothing does something to a person, even a Malfoy, which was why Draco found himself collapsing against a grimy sink in the boys' bathroom before a dinner he wouldn't attend, sobbing pathetically.

How could he have been so stupid? Thinking that a mere necklace could kill one of the most powerful wizards in Britain when it couldn't even kill a seventeen-year-old girl? That he could even succeed in the Dark Lord's task? How could he kill Dumbledore? How? The Vanishing Cabinet remained a wreck, incapable of transporting a Galleon from Borgin and Burkes, and he couldn't trust anyone to deliver lethal substances to Dumbledore…he had nothing. There was no hope, no way out, no one to turn to. And he and his family would take the slow, painful punishment for his stupidity. I'm worthless, I'll never be able to do it, I'm slowly killing my family… Why me?

He angrily wiped away the tears, dragging himself upright, bracing himself for another attempt to fix the bloody Vanishing Cabinet. But when he turned to leave, he came face to face with none other than Moaning Myrtle.

"Do tell me what's wrong. I hate seeing you like this. **I can help you…"**

Draco shook his head and buried his head in his hand, sobbing anew.

 **"Don't… Tell me what's wrong… I can help you…"**

 **"No one can help me." His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it… I can't… It won't work… and unless I do it soon… he says he'll kill me…"** He **gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked into the cracked mirror** to see someone standing behind him. Potter.

His wand was in his pocket. He could feel it, pressing against his leg, begging to be used. He could hex Potter here and now for daring to interrupt him… Merlin knew he needed some way to vent his panic. But the crying seeming to have sapped the energy out of him, leaving him feeling even more helpless than before.

"Get out," he growled, knowing he looked a sight with his red-rimmed eyes. "Both of you!"

Myrtle, thankfully, obeyed and went soaring into her toilet with a wail, but Potter stayed put. Of course he would. Potter just had to be as infuriatingly stubborn as ever, even when Draco was past his breaking point.

"You're crying," he stated, dumbfounded.

Suddenly, Draco's pain turned to rage. "Excellent observation. Ten points to Gryffin-fucking-dor! Who would have guessed? How intelligent you are, to tell me I'm crying when my life is slipping through my fingers as I flounder for help! A truly astounding discovery, Potter!"

"I was only saying!" Potter protested. "It's not like you traipse around the school spilling your feelings!"

His anger made him caustic. "Another amazing discovery from famous Harry Potter," Draco sneered. "Here Potter, let me get you a medal."

Potter just rolled his eyes, although Draco could see his hand in his pocket; he was no doubt holding his wand. "It must be pretty serious for you to be here, bawling your eyes out, though," he said quietly, deciding to try for peace. Well, Draco wasn't having any of it.

"No shite," he spat. He turned back around to the sink and turned on the faucet to rinse his face with cold water. As the water cleared his head, Draco paused and glared at his enemy in hatred. "I envy you."

Potter looked shocked again before smirking. "Imagine that. A Malfoy jealous of a Potter. Well, I can give you a hint, my life isn't looking that marvelous right now."

"Believe me, mine is much worse. You're always with all of your followers, ready to battle your enemies for you on a whim. Dumbledore up in his office coaching you on everything you need to know to defeat the Dark Lord, holding your hand every step of the way–"

"How do you know about those meetings?!"

"Meetings?" Potter fell silent. "Merlin, there are actually meetings?" Draco let out a giggle that was somewhat hysterical. Potter was actually getting handheld through this entire war. "And you say I'm privileged. You know you can trust Dumbledore completely, with everything, because he's too good to leave his savior in the dust. I don't have that privilege."

"What do you mean by that?"

With a sudden start, Draco realized he'd said too much. "Nothing," he said brusquely. "I just don't have anyone checking up on me to make sure I'm doing alright, coaching me on how to get through a war, much less someone like Dumbledore."

"Would you like someone to? Check up on you, I mean."

Draco froze. Was Potter actually…? He scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. "I thought I told you to get out, Potter."

"Is that a no?"

Merlin help me. "Yes, it's a no, you bleeding–" Draco took a deep breath. He would not let Poter rile him up like this. "Just go. Go out and win the war and come back on time for dinner like you always do, Potter."

Potter froze. "How dare you."

"Excuse me?" Draco asked.

"How dare you act like I haven't been through as much shit as you, like I've had it easy! Like I haven't had this shadow over my back since I was born, like I didn't have a duty as a soldier since I was born! Like I haven't sacrificed things, people even, only to be no closer to defeating him than when I started, in fact, worse! Like Dumbledore is actually teaching me things to help, instead of the bloody story of his birth!" Potter began pacing, tearing his hair out in anger and frustration. Once he started, he couldn't seem to stop.

"In fact, I envy you, Malfoy! You and your little club of would-be Death Eaters, perhaps Death Eater already–" Draco blanched. Potter knew? "Yeah, I'm onto you, dung-head, don't think you can hide it, even if no one believes me! You and your club of Death-Eaters could talk to each other, and actually sort through your shit together, but nooo," he mocked, "you have to shove your feelings down because it's 'proper', because feelings 'show weakness'! I might not be afraid of sharing what's wrong, but there's no one who will bloody listen! No one who understands being responsible for everyone, for having an impossible duty that countless full-grown wizards couldn't accomplish, much less me!

"You think you 'can't do it'? You think he'll kill you if you don't compete whatever convoluted task you've been set? Think of what he'll do to me and everyone I care about, if I've been his supposed downfall since he was born! You're one of his followers, at least he'll go easy on you–"

"BUT HE WON'T!" Draco shouted, finally able to get a word in. "He won't 'go easy' on me; could you be so naive?! The Dark Lord doesn't 'go easy' on anyone! He does not care about anyone! Not even his followers, and especially not his followers, because knowing what he'll do to us keeps us in line! You think I wouldn't leave if I didn't have the chance? You think I wouldn't bail? You think my father wouldn't bail? Well, you're wrong, because we know and we've seen up close, what he does to anyone who threatens to disobey! We don't talk about these things not because it's not 'proper' or because it 'shows weakness' but because if he knew how desperate we were, he'd make it even more impossible to desert, and torture us more than he already does.

"I'm not just in detention, Potter. My father royally fucked up, and now I have to pay the price! You think I'm doing this for blood purity?! Hell no, I'm doing it because people I care about are in just as much danger as you, if not more! The difference between me and you is that you have people who actually care about you. I don't! Dumbledore cares if you die, if only because you're the all-important savior! But the Dark Lord couldn't care less about my life! If I die, he has hundreds of others begging to take my place, people who will actually do the job! Because he knows I can't do it, he knows I won't be able to save my family. He's holding out hope for me, dangling it in front of me like a dog reaching for a bone, and once I utterly and completely fail, that last sliver is gone and it's all the more painful!

"You could never be like me; you've always put your faith in right people. You think you've carried a duty since you were born; look at me. Before my father was born, his father was imagining a grandson who was the perfect little pure-blooded minion! At least you're expected to do some good in the world. I am forced to do terrible things, and if I don't me and my family will die."

"That is not the same!" Potter growled, his face contorted with rage. "That's not that same at all. Your parents had the chance to desert and get help from us for thirteen years. Yet they didn't. They stayed inside their little pureblood cocoon, refusing help from anyone, refusing to redeem themselves. Now look where it's gotten them; look where it's gotten you! My parents didn't have a chance to save me or themselves; everything was already predetermined for me! Your predicament could have been avoided, but mine couldn't! So I follow Dumbledore to a tee, trying to do the right thing and get nowhere! And now I'm floundering here, trying impossibly to save the world with nobody who will actually be able to help me in the end!"

"You act like your fate is doomed by the universe, like you're entirely helpless," Draco sneered.

"You know nothing about my fate!"

"Be ruthless, fight fire with fire! The Dark Lord isn't noble, and neither should you be, if you actually want to win! Why don't you stop whining and actually do something on your own, if everything has always been up to you?"

"Shut up! You know nothing!" A blast exploded from Potter's wand, and Draco lept to the side to avoid being hit. He got a shield charm up just in time to block Potter's stupefy, and he kept the shield up so he could stand. With a slash of his wand, the shield disappeared and he quickly fired a reducto. Potter dodged it and Draco had already fired off another curse when he saw Snape coming up the stairs. Not again. But the momentary lapse in concentration had cost him. The ringing of a spell he'd never heard before echoed in his ears.

"Sectumsempra!"

The world went black.

 **What'd you think? I always felt that Harry and Draco were two sides of the same coin: both young people placed in very difficult and demanding situations that no one should have to go through with little guidance. The only difference is one works for Voldemort and one works for Dumbledore. This piece was kinda me working out how I feel about the situations they were placed into and the people who placed them into those positions. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!**


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